The Perils of Spirit
by furysflame666
Summary: He had me, totally and utterly. He was far too powerful; I far too weak. However, he would still receive a struggle for that which he so coveted. Lestat de Lioncourt.
1. Chapter 1

Yay for another old story of mine! Lestat de Lioncourt, thankfully, does not belong to me, but is the property of Anne Rice. : ) Reviews are welcome, so please enjoy my story.

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Despair. Is that all that's left? Yes, I think so, after _he_ came. Though I wasn't quite what you call normal before he did. I suppose that is why he noticed me in the first place.

A summer before he came, I went to Europe. It thrilled me to be there. Without the stress of school or work or anything, I could walk freely within the countries. In my group, I met a girl, later to be one of my closest friends. Once, in England, we had some free time, and we were able to shop. My friend, just a rabid book-lover as I, agreed with me to spend our free time in the bookstores of the small town.

Inside, we were talking, and I brought up the subject of vampires. Now, you must know, before this, they didn't interest me very much. I had read a few stories placed on the Internet by sometimes very talented writers, but they always went sour. She agreed with my evaluation. I asked her if she had ever head a name. What was it? I had seen it many times in those stories, and I thought that the name had to be based off something for so many to use it.

The name was, "Lestat."

"Yeah, I know that name!" she replied, telling me the details.

It was a series of books called the _Vampire Chronicles_, in which Lestat was the main character. Since we were in a bookstore, I found and purchased it.

After a few days, I was done, eager to read the next in the series. That same day I completed _Interview with the Vampire_, I started on_The Vampire Lestat_. A day after I returned home I completed the second, and soon after, I was done with the third. I found all of the book fascinating, interesting and beautifully crafted. _That_ is where the real trouble began.

You see, these books were supposedly eating at my sanity. A strange feeling haunted me at night, and I nervously looked out my window when the sun set and wondered what would happen. Of course, I never told anyone the truth. At least, not with a serious attitude. I joked about it, laughed and said vampires were trying to kill me, or stalk me in the very least.

My friends were also joking when they threatened to put me in a "happy farm." Ah, how fitting, I thought. Since this feeling would not cease. It felt stronger each night before I slept each night. Now, I thought to myself, I am surely losing it.

The feeling didn't go away still. It had been a few weeks now, and I was losing sleep over it. At night, I would lay in bed, laughing at myself that it wasn't possible for a vampire to attack me, and that I would be fine. Vampire began to invade my dreams; I was think of them so much. Strange, unique dreams I had, not gory or violent, just strange. At times, I would be arguing with Lestat or others I would be hiding from him and talking to Louis.

Well, fears I didn't even know I had arose when _he _came. Yes, by now you surely know of whom I am speaking of, don't you? It is the Vampire Lestat.

No, not the one from the movies, the "movie-star" good looks, or clear blue eyes, even. No, this was _the_ Lestat, in all of his twisted glory.

I suppose I had just fallen asleep when he came. Or perhaps I had been sleeping for awhile. Never did I think of looking at a clock.

I remember I was in a peaceful darkness, no vampire dreams, finally, to my comfort. Just the pure bliss of a restful sleep.

I was torn out of that bliss by cold fingers and a pain at my throat. My eyes snapped open to see that devil half on top of me, one hand holding my wrist down, and the other clasped on the back of my neck. Immediately, I tried to fight back, the tingling sensation erupting about my body not enough to paralyze me. He tore his fangs from me, which made me yell in pain, and covered my eyes with the hand that was holding the nape of my neck. Darkness.

Fear filled me, not being able to move because of his weight, and my vision gone. And I did not think this was a vampire! I thought him a thief, intent on stealing valuable and possibly hurting my family! In thinking that, I struggled with all of my heart. But, it was like going against nature itself, fighting him. I'm sure now he was quite amused with my attempts to escape.

A strange calm came over me, then. Not because I felt more at ease, surely not that! It was from the exhaustion from the draining of blood. He had taken more than I realized at the time, and my limbs were losing strength. How desperately I wanted to fight this man, who was trying to get God knows what from me!

He knew my mental struggle, of how I wanted to fight, but couldn't. His first words I will always remember, because he scared me so.

"Shh, don't be frightened, ma chère. I'm not here to hurt anyone. I don't want anyone but you." His tone and words were so fluent and perfect, and I'm sure you know of his French accent. How it scared me!

Surely, I was trembling then. Unable to do anything to stop him: what was the point of all that training (for I had been in martial arts for far too many years already), if it could not help me now? Again, my emotions were open for him to read with his abilities, and he seemed to enjoy the feeling of conflict in me.

Lestat released my wrist and brought that hand gently on my neck, making me recoil, but going nowhere. I tried to use my hand he had just released, but he wasn't a fool. He only let go because he knew I couldn't move, couldn't offer any resistance. Fear and exhaustion made me still.

His cold, tender touch to my sensitive neck frightened me even more. What would he do? My breathing was harsh, he could feel it now; my pulse was probably deafening in his ears. I sill could see nothing; his hand stopped my vision. Looking back, I don't think it would have done anything if I had seen what going on or not.

The hand on my throat applied pressure. Breathing this rapidly was getting difficult, but I could not help it.

"Be calm, now. Quiet." The last word was soft, caressing in its tone. Was he trying to smother my anxiety?

He chuckled then. More fear filled me, if it was possible. I was feeling lightheaded now; I couldn't get enough air. Lestat's fingers pressed on my neck still. Even if I wished, I could not desist my violent breathing.

I am not sure how many moments passed like this. No matter if it was thirty seconds to a full hour, my trembling did not cease. His thumb from the hand covering my eyes touched my cheek suddenly. He stroked my cheek slowly, almost lovingly. Chills were sent all over my body, but I still couldn't move. It was torturing me.

"Who are you?" I asked in an angry, almost inaudible whisper.

The hand on my throat moved to the back of my neck and pulled me off the pillow on which I had resided. I knew our faces were close, so near, our lips were almost touching. His breath, it was cold. Every hair on my body stood up as he breathed on my face.

"Oh, I don't think you want to know, ma chère. Perhaps you would die of shock!" Laughter. He was enjoying every moment of this!

I think a growl escaped my lips then. More laughter.

"What a spirit you have!" he said in an amused tone, "it has nourished your blood, giving it an unimaginable taste. I quite like it."

The lips that were so close to mine moved to my neck. This almost made me scream, except his hand clamped onto my mouth. At last, I had vision! However, his head had moved; I could see nothing of him, only that his body was still halfway on top of mine. This sight made my stomach lurch.

Other sensations filled me, as well. His lips, so soft! How could such things be my thoughts? They traveled down to the base of my neck so slowly. Making the experience as agonizing as possible for me. He knew how I hated this, these feelings of intimacy that he created in my body! This man did not care; of course, he was content in enjoying himself.

He stopped at the base of my throat, lingering there, knowing that I feared the inevitable moment of the teeth breaking the skin.

"One more taste before I go." His words were spoken against my skin, creating another set of sensations sent through me from the vibrating of his voice. He smirked against me, causing shivering.

That motion revealed the teeth that would break through my flesh. Those slender, sharp fangs that sliced through me then, drawing a gasp even against his hand holding my mouth. My eyes snapped shut against it, the feeling of him sucking at the vein he aimed for unbearable. I clenched my jaw; I would not cry out! I would wait for him to leave and then-! What would happen then?

The feeling of him drinking was sensational. It cannot accurately be put into words, such a feeling! He listened to my beating heart, making sure the sound did not dull.

It felt like hours, how long we sat together, him taking my valuable blood. But it couldn't have been that long. In real time, it was probably less than half a minute. I realized he was trying to make the feeling last. He felt the same things as I at that moment, those sensations. Wonderful, but pure hell for me. We used such feelings differently. I struggled against it, but he gave himself to it willingly, even letting out a quiet moan or two in those seconds we were joined.

Lestat pulled back gently, unlike last time, carefully letting his fangs ease their way from my skin. My jaw was slack; I didn't have any energy to move. And I thought when he drank before was horrible! You could not know the feeling of helplessness I felt then. Even the natural process of lifting my chest to breathe was a chore!

His face was known to me, finally. What I saw almost did what he had said it would do. Whatever blood was left in me drained from my face.

How could it be?! I thought. It was impossible!!

For my tormentor was a vampire, I knew that, but this vampire was Lestat de Lioncourt.

He was just as he had described himself in the book he had narrated. His blonde hair flowing, wavy and full, and his white skin! I believe it reflected the moonlight filtering in from the blinds on the window. It was flawless, as he had said, and even the smirk on his face caused not a line or a wrinkle to be present.

But what stunned me the most was his eyes.

I had never seen such a color in one's eyes before that moment. Never had I believe it possible to possess that hue. Truly, they were gray, but they still had so much light. How was this possible? They were deep and glowing, almost, with life. Strange for a dead creature.

It I ever knew a definition of beauty, I would probably say this was its most supreme form. But to this day I have not one inkling what that concept means.

This must have puzzled him. Of course it did! Every person who had ever laid eyes upon him was overwhelmed by his looked, and now I, a simple mortal girl looked at him with mere amazement. Surely, that wasn't what he had expected.

He smiled widely and gathered my face in his hands.

"Ah, you have exceeded all expectations!" He had obvious glee in his voice, "Truly, you are a prize, my dear. Don't worry; I haven't even harbored the thought of killing you anytime in the near future. Your blood is simply too good! It's nothing I have ever tasted in my life; the blood of the Old Ones can be compared with your taste!"

This was a taunt, of course. He knew I could take no comfort in such a thought. It put me even more on edge.

He released the grip on my face and lay me back gently upon the pillow. Lestat did not break his gaze; he looked at me from every possible angle from where he sat. His hands came up to my head, and I flinched. I'm sure he laughed. Those white hands touched my hair, stroked it romantically, savoring the feel of it.

"So soft," he cooed, "It's like Louis'. Merely lighter."

He saw my displeasure at his remarks. He saw how every extra moment he stayed tortured me, but he didn't care. Lestat loved it.

One of his hands dropped to his side, and the other traced my jawbone. More shivers went through my spine at his touch. I felt his weight subside as he stood up. His hand was on his face.

"I will miss your warmth, chérie." He pulled away slowly, as if lamenting our separation, "Until tomorrow."

He was gone in the next instant, as if he never was there. If I had the strength at that time, I would have checked my neck to see if there were actually any marks there. That couldn't have been a hallucination; I was not mad! It would have put me at ease, though, knowing that it was. _Until tomorrow_, he had said. Would I go through the same hell as tonight? I struggled against the thought, pushing it away. Paralyzed throughout my whole body, I was, completely vulnerable. He had left me like this, and I hated him for it. I hated him for all of it.

I couldn't be sure if he would return to finish me, no matter what he had said. But, I decided to sleep. I could not keep my eyes open for any longer. Sleep did indeed come; taking me away from the horrors I had witnessed and felt that night. I was thankful for the peace.

Never did I want to think of Lestat again, of how he had done that horrible thing to me. There was such hate in me then. Maybe it was fear, though. I could not begin to tell the difference. But if it was indeed fear, then I had much to see still. For that was only the beginning of my encounters with Lestat de Lioncourt.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning I awoke in a cold sweat. I shot up out of bed, surprised to have even that much strength. My dreams had been of nothing, and somehow that had tormented me all night. That darkness reminded me of_him_, and it frightened me for those few hours I slept.

Wiping the sweat off my face, I tried to stand. I had to grab hold of my bed to keep from falling; there was no power in me to walk. Slowly, I eased myself into a sitting position on the ground. I must have had a fever. Apparently, the exhaustion had not left me yet. Damn him, I thought, and tried to rise once again. With much difficulty, I succeeded.

About an hour after that strange occurrence, I was on my way to school. One of my friends stared at me as I struggled to keep awake on the half-full bus.

"You alright?" he asked from the seat beside me.

That snapped me out of my daze and I turned to him.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." The reply was weak; my voice stuttered slightly.

"You look awful. Why didn't you stay home today?"

"You know what they said at the beginning of the year," I reminded him of what the instructors had stated, "I'll fall behind if I miss too much class."

"Have you even missed any school so far?" my friend questioned matter-of-factly.

"Well, no, but…" My voice trailed off; I didn't want to answer anything at the moment. I laid my head on the backpack in my lap and tried to sleep.

Later that day, I was in foreign language. Never an expert, I knew I shouldn't have fallen asleep. I had already been struggling to keep up, since I knew nothing of Spanish whatsoever, and there were people who did. As long as I studied, I would be alright.

Well, I tried my best, but somewhere along the lines of reading the textbook I nodded off, and was only awakened by my teacher scolding me in that other language. Of course, I didn't know what she meant. My comprehension didn't seem to matter; the next moment a puzzled look came on her face.

"Do you need to go to the clinic?" she offered, finally in English.

Did I look that horrible? I thought to myself No, I told her, but I would like to go get a drink of water. Obviously worried about my condition, she let me.

I took a stop to the restroom to look in a mirror. Dear God! I almost exclaimed aloud. My complexion was deathly pale; I think it rivaled Lestat's. And my eyes, bloodshot and about to close even as I stood there. I looked down to my trembling fingers. Not good, I thought.

The bell rang. At least I could regain some energy by eating. I went quickly to my class to retrieve my belongings and walked to the cafeteria.

I fell asleep in lunch, too. The same friend from the bus shook me awake. Another, one girl from my class, was beside him.

"You seriously need to go home," he told me, "Look, you can't even keep your eyes open."

"Only one more class to go, and then we're done for the week. Isn't that enough?" I said to him sleepily.

Why wouldn't the weakness wear off? Lestat didn't say anything about this in any of his books! This feeling was horrible; what did he _do?_

"What happened? Did you not get enough sleep?" the girl asked.

"Vampires stalk me…" I replied quietly, drawing a groan from the first companion.

"Please stop with that. It's getting annoying." He half-pleaded, irritated at my "pointless" obsession.

"Vampires aren't real!" my other classmate exclaimed.

I shifted a little and lifted my head from the table. A sad smile covered my face.

"That's what they want you to think." I laughed. They looked at each other: one in exasperation, the other in worry. Seeing this, I added, while getting up from my seat, "I'll be fine."

Ironically, as I said this, I nearly toppled over. Horribly out of place, for I usually had perfect balance from my countless years of martial arts training. Damn Lestat, I cursed again, as I quickly caught myself. Just in time to look up to my friends' faces, lucky me. Without pause, I left their dialogue and traveled to my next class.

The sun was glaring hot at that time; I remember it well. White walls surrounded me, reflecting the rays toward me. Sweat. It was dripping from my face as I walked. People passed me: how fast was I going? I wondered, I'd better hurry. But I had to sit; I couldn't go on! The sun was shining, beating down on my hair. Almost to shade, just a few more steps…

Needless to say, I arrived there, and went through the class semi-normally. Surprisingly, I did not fall asleep, knowing I could on the bus ride home. And when the bell rang, I had no hesitation to get myself to my transportation. Not too long after, home was where I had dropped. Nothing was on my mind save sleeping, and recovering from that damned Lestat-born illness. Dropping my bag and books near my bedroom door, I collapsed upon my bed, not bothering to get under blankets or covers. All I wanted was that blissful sleep.

No dreams. I found that relaxing, for as of late I had only been dreaming of vampires. Those strange visions put into my mind by God knows who, that weren't horrible, simply perplexing. Not healthy for a being that was just assaulted by the creature, surely! With such a state of mind, I'm positive the images would have been terrifying.

Warmth. But how? I had slept without a covering, and I should have been freezing. However, I didn't feel such ice now.

"What?" My voice was low, "How did…?"

Immediately, my eyes went wide. It couldn't be!

I looked about the room. Nothing. Silence. Still, I felt on edge; he could be in here, waiting, watching my moves with curious and mischievous eyes.

I kicked the blanket off me and stood up. My mind quickly went to securing a weapon: my sword, my greatest defense, prized and powerful. As of late, I kept it beside me as I slept. If only it could have helped me the night previous! I pushed the anger from my mind and realized a horrible fact.

"No…" My eyes went wide. It was gone! _How?_

_Relax_, I told myself, _I've just misplaced it_.

What a wonderful lie. Where else could it be? Never did I lose such dangerous items carelessly. Checking obvious places, though, all I found were practice blades. My hardwood stand I kept for the sword was bare, a mere hunk of bark now that it had no purpose.

In frustration and silent fear, I sat down on my bed. Cursing to myself as I completed the action, my nervous eye glanced to the side of the bed. What I saw there shocked my profoundly.

The little gray blanket was folded up and neatly placed on the edge of the bed.

In deafening terror, I tried to flee the room. _What was I thinking, coming back here?_ I ran to the door, nearly clawing from the knob, but halted. There was a tick attached to my neck.

Around my shoulders did he have his hands, the touch making me cringe. Wide-eyed, I shifted my eyes downward, not daring to move my head in fear of his bite. His teeth grazed my skin; his lips were on the tender flesh. A chill ran through me. He wrapped his arm around me, so that his wrist was under my chin and his fingers could caress my cheek. The other arm found a home around my waist. I could not dare to fight back, for he could drain my life and leave me for dead. Perhaps even worse, he could postpone a peaceful death with more hellish visitations.

Upon hearing such thoughts, he smirked against my skin. Just as the night before, it caused only shivers down my spine. Sweat was forming in thin beads upon my forehead.

Lestat stepped back, and I had no choice but to match the stride, lest I risk falling or his teeth breaking my skin. Another step, and then another followed until he sat on the covers, bringing me with him without my consent.

I could have screamed at that moment! To be so close to that man, that vampire, was utterly horrifying. I was on his damn lap! I think I could have prayed at that moment, as if to ask some unknown power to relinquish me from his eager hands, to release me of his lustful touch.

He laughed outright at such a notion.

His movement let go of my neck in the process, and as any sane person would do, I struggled to free myself. The hand on my cheek, however, snapped upon my jawbone, stilling me quickly. A touch that made my form lurch, mind you. He turned my head to the side, as to let me view him with less difficulty. Arrogant monster. Another smirk was on his face as he viewed me.

"Do you fear me, ma chère?" Were his chilling words. I was trembling, then.

I wanted so desperately for him to let go, to stop contact with me. Each gentle touch, each malicious caress was taunting, torturing me. He knew this. That is why he did it. The fear was wonderful for him to feel; I have no doubt.

Weakness and fright was all that I was entitled. The blood I had lost had most assuredly returned, but why did I still feel fatigue? _Why!_ It was keeping me from fighting; keeping me from showing any strength at all!

"Why are you so tired?" he echoed, hearing my thoughts still, "Hmm. You _should_ be fine, and yet you are not."

He released my chin and ran that hand down my throat. His fingers grazed the flesh, again upon the quivering flesh. I was so afraid!

"Is it your worry that keeps you from healing?" he asked malevolently, already knowing the answer, "Your anxiety of my inevitable return?

"Yes, that's it." Lestat continued, "Already, though? One day, and you're paralyzed with fear? Surely, you can do better; that is what makes your blood so delicious! It's that will."

Will. The word woke me out of that dream-like state. Yes, I remembered that spirit! Nothing kept me bound to him now, save for his intangible words and threats. I elbowed him in the face with all the power I had.

Not a whisper of agony. No matter, I stepped from his lap, happy to be free from him. In turning, I saw him sitting there, with the same smile as before.

He_let_ me do that! He let me be freed, to give me a chance to fight back! It was all a _game!_

An amazing feeling of insignificance washed over me at that moment; the color must have drained from my face. There was no way out! I could almost weep.

He laughed. He stood up.

"Don't be upset, ma chère." he coaxed, walking slowly towards me.

I looked for a way out, for a path of escape, but I was trapped between him and a wall. Running to the side, I was met with a blocking arm that prevented my fleeing. In that attempt, I struck his forearm with my body. It locked onto me immediately, his hand going on my shoulder, keeping me from struggling. One movement sent my back crashing against his chest. I could feel the cold skin through his shirt.

We were too close; I almost screamed again, but something smothered the yearning. Was it fear once again? It wasn't for me, but for my family. They were still here. If the sounds of our struggle reached them, they would no doubt come to question the noise. Then Lestat would—

"I would kill them," he finished for me, confirming my greatest nightmare, "All of them, quickly, and quietly. Maybe I should," He stopped, bringing his face near my exposed ear and whispering into it, "It would leave us alone, wouldn't it? You could scream all you wish."

Had he not been holding me up, I most assuredly would have fallen. He was too close! Never could I stand being in close quarters with any soul, but now-! Now a vampire had me, and he would never let go.

Lestat chuckled in my ear. Such a great amount of fear had me; the struggle was renewed. I elbowed him in the stomach and kicked him in the shins as best I could. Anything to get him off of me. It didn't work, of course. He was an unmovable pillar of strength, not at all willing to yield. I could have almost cried out in frustration. I gritted my teeth.

He pushed my head down and moved the hair away from the back of my neck. Only shivers could come from me in this gentle process.

_Please don't, please don't! _I thought frantically, it hurt so badly.

His grip tightened around my waist.

"Now, we both know that it is not painful. Don't lie to yourself." His voice was waft. It frightened me more.

The greater I struggled, the more he held fast, waiting patiently for me to give up. I could not: I told myself to lift my head, snatch any sort of weapon, and to fight. His hand was on the back of my head. He kept me from doing even the first of my actions. Nowhere was my sword to be found. The words, "no escape," ran through my head again, but I swiftly shoved them from my mind.

He tired of my resistance, as great as his amusement from it. The hand on my head, in turn, caught me in a crushing embrace. Not a loving one, however. Though I'm sure, in his twisted mind, it could be considered as such. The air was leaving my lungs. Surely he knew of his own strength; he was doing this on purpose! I could not know at the time, for all I thought of was getting away.

By then, I realized my head was down, and yet free from his hold. Thinking swiftly, I pulled my neck up and slammed Lestat's with my skull. He grunted and released me.

Whether out of shock or genuine pain, the attack gave me enough time to lunge toward my weapon rack and seize the first object I could. A dull sai was my unfortunate defense, for that was all I had for the fight for my blood. Still, I was determined to battle.

Now true shock ran through me as I whipped around to find not a soul. I struggled to push it back, to find courage. There was nothing but darkness. The grip upon my sai tightened as I glanced about to see the inky blackness the night had created for my battling grounds. The moon was too small tonight to fill my room with sufficient light. Mere silhouettes composed the quarters. I would never know where he was.

_He's in here, he's in here!_ echoed through my mind. I didn't move; I stayed wary. My heart pounded against my breast, my hands showed sweat as the death-grip of my weapon continued. The anxiety was tormenting me in the stillness, the promise of danger to come.

Lestat was there. He was not, and then he was in the next second. I could never know how fast he came at me, but my next conscious movement was up against another wall, a blade to my throat. Something stopped the edge, though. It seems my unconscious mind had moved my sai upward enough to protect me, even though I myself could never move quick enough to do so. The sword had been halted.

I paused. A sword…

I shifted my gaze down to see my _own _blade threatening to tear my throat out. Even in this dire situation, anger filled me. He dared to use _my_ weapon?! Surely, he heard this, for he smirked. I attempted to push the weapon away from me, but it was a test of strength in which Lestat had me sorely outmatched. Though I tried for many, many moments to prevail despite my better sense, there was no victory to be had.

Lestat grew tired of it, I suppose, for he used just a bit more of his power to break my feeble efforts to escape by pushing the sword all the way against me. Still, the sai I held kept the blade back, but the sai was to me so tightly I could scarcely breathe.

His fingers enclosed my own; the hand holding my weapon was trapped by his free hand. He pulled the sword away, having no further need of it to keep me pinned. The might he possessed dwarfed mine; it was like trying to move marble! Now I believe Lestat himself has used such a description before.

The vampire's sword arm inched closer to the wrist holding the sai in place. My eyes widened greatly as I realized this, but could struggle no more to free myself from the inevitable cut. Terror overcame me; I started to shake violently once more.

This could never have stopped him. He drank up the fear; perhaps, it was as good as the blood he needed.

With a motion I could never hope to see, the sword slit through the skin. Dropping the hunk of metal to the ground, he could not hold back for but a second more. Lestat let go of me only to leap at the open wound, smothering my smaller form with his body. The sensation of his drink came at me again.

My sai dropped, the weapon that had held my only salvation dropped, involuntarily. It fell to the carpet below, strangely, without a sound. I would have followed from sheer weakness of the draining of blood, but Lestat's hands held me aloft expertly.

A strange mix of pain and pleasure filled me; it was unlike any human sensation. Just as the night previous, he drank all too slowly, enjoying every draught of savory blood that flowed through his lips. We were connected through the heartbeat, connected through our very being. To describe it is insurmountable.

After seconds or minutes, never could I know, he released me. My legs crumpled and I fell forward to his waiting arms. They were warm._Thief!_ Unfortunately, even as I was held there, I shivered. I could not even lift my head to gaze at him, nor did I wish to see that taunting smile on his face. He kept me there for many moments, as if in a daze of ecstasy. Or, he stood reading my emotions, lamenting our separation. Human emotions. I'm sure he missed those.

Oh, so gracefully, he picked me up, my weight nothing in his arms. With my dwindling strength, I turned my head away from him in sheer defeat. I could not bare to look upon him; it was far too much. In response, he leaned his face closer. His words left me shaken.

"Your blood is intoxicating; I could almost not pull back. Wouldn't that be horrible?" His breath was warm on my ear.

He ever so gently laid me back down on the bed. I couldn't move; I couldn't speak. You will never understand the fear I felt, the helplessness. I could cry. But, I wouldn't let myself, for it would give him too much satisfaction. Although, at that point, I'm sure he had his fill of me already.

I curled into a half-formed ball and edged away from him as best I could in my weakened state. My arms covered my head and face in a sorry defense that would do nothing against him. It was all I could muster.

Lestat sat on the side of the bed opposite of the night before. I could hear his movement, but did not hold enough courage to look up from my protective position and gaze at his face. It would have not helped, though, for even as I still felt his presence on my left did he appear on my right, grasping my hands, pulling them away from my face, and destroying my guard. In the next moment, he held my face with his gentle touch, all but forcing me to view him in his triumphant splendor. The vampire's other hand pulled my shoulder up to him, pushing me into an embrace that I neither desired nor enjoyed. His face was in the hair he so loved, and his grip was enough for me to feel his newly acquired warmth. He spoke again.

"Oh, how I wish I could stay with you tonight, but I cannot. Do not despair, chérie, for I will return tomorrow as soon as the sun sets. Perhaps I will stay with you all night." After he pulled back, he pushed my face up to look at him. We were close enough to kiss. Imagine what that would have done to me at that moment! Lestat smiled; he knew exactly what it would do. Though he made no move for that action, what he said next sealed my fate, "Maybe I should stay tonight, instead?"

My eyes widened so far, they seemed they would roll from my head.

"Ah, so it is decided," he said, then, as if speaking to himself aloud, asked, "Why do I need to leave?" Lestat came forward, falling upon me, and I flinched to repress a yell. Before I realized it, the vampire had made me lean against him, my face pressed against his chest as he wrapped his arms snuggly around me. He cooed softly to me, "Will you slumber in my arms, like a lover?"

His hand was holding my side, while the other held my head to him in perfect control. Only a slight movement was needed to make my stomach lurch. If any strength were left within me, I would have fought him, would have struggled to get away. My energy was gone, however, and I could but tremble in his loving arms.

I knew I was quivering. My fists were tight; my knuckles were going white from the lack of blood. Lestat took this hand and held it, as if keeping the anger from being released with his own power.

"Bastard-!" I cursed nearly inaudibly.

"What was that, ma chère?" Of course he could hear me; his senses were far greater than any mortal's, "Say it louder; maybe God will hear you!"

A chill went down my spine. What a powerful statement it was.

He released the hand and let it fall limply to the covers. His other hand moved up my back, causing more than slight discomfort for me, and felt my rapid heartbeat. It enraged me to feel him touch me so tenderly.

"Kill me." I hissed darkly, "End it!"

"No, no, love." he protested; he breathed into my ear, "Never."

The vampire lifted me up ever so slightly, just enough to bite into my earlobe. He sucked at it, though there was no blood to be found there. What a darkly sensational feeling! It made my body spasm. There must have been blood within my hand from my nails cutting into my palm so deeply. Traces of angry tears were in my eyes as I struggled to be released. The tears wouldn't come out, of course, but they were there. My fight was lost at the beginning, you know by now, and he loved it. From start to finish, every moment he drank up like the blood he so craved. _Damn him_.

He placed his hand upon my head and I struggled to move and fight. My face was pushed down to his chest again.

"Shh, calm yourself, ma chère." he cooed, "It will be a very_long_ night if you do not."

"Release me." My words were through clenched teeth.

Lestat laughed; such a horrible chuckle! It sent a shiver of fear through me. He knew it.

"Rest. Please." He asked of me, touching the side of my face with his free hand, then snatched it, held it tight, "Or do I need another drink to calm you down."

His words were almost as dark as mine had been, and a new wave of terror flew over me. He had never spoke to me in such a tone. Was this the temper he had spoken of in his books?

However, that tension was blown away by another one of his laughs. It didn't make me feel any more comfortable, of course. Even so, his words stayed with me: would he really dare another attack?

"Why can't I?" Hearing my thoughts, he responded, "Are you going to stop me?"

My hands turned to fists again. Ever vigilant, he saw, and smirked.

A long night it would be, indeed.

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Comments or reviews are welcome and appreciated. : ) 


	3. Chapter 3

This went on for hours, it seemed, Lestat purring soft, darkly loving words to me. Several times, the urge to shed tears came upon me from the mere hopelessness of my situation; however, I smothered the urge, knowing all too well doing so would give the beast far too much satisfaction. But still, he spoke, and it frightened me to my core. He ran his hands through my hair, his glass nails delicately across the vulnerable skin of my face and neck, and kept an ever-powerful arm draped around me, as if protecting my form from harm.

Arrogant beast.

His fingers had long given up the warmth of my blood, and I shivered from his touch. Never did his torment stop, his words ever taunting me in my prone state. Even if I possessed enough strength to struggle and fight, there was no escape from his iron grip of malicious love. Despite my better judgment, though, still would I fight, so desperate was I to be free of him. There was hope for such a wish. And his words! They struck down deep within me, tearing through even my most powerful urges for courage. What empty utterances they were, telling me to be calm and rest against him in peace.

It's obvious I could do nothing of the sort!

Nevertheless, the passage of time, too, held me within its power. Like the night previous, Lestat's drink had left me weakened and exhausted, eager to retreat into the safety of a dream state. And, against better reason, sleep did come to me, quietly and showing more compassion to a tired soul than the vampire could ever conjure.

Even as I slept, I heard Lestat's words. My dreams were nonexistent because of it. No substance, no love was behind them; they were only spoken to frighten or torment me all the more. Or, perhaps in his corrupted mind, they were to gently lull me into slumber. Somehow, in a way only the great Vampire Lestat could, they were able to do both.

And after a time far too short for my liking, I was awoken by a force I still do not know of today. Hours had passed, I could guess, though the darkness still held the night in its grip. My room had succumbed as well; light was scare and I could see hardly in front of my nose. It would be minutes before my eyes adjusted. A serious danger, for Lestat was finally gone from me, but he was close. Indeed, he was inside the very room. I could feel it, a presence too malicious to be any but that particular vampire.

Immediately, I shot up into action. However, instead of going into a fighting position, I drew my knees up and covered my head with my hands. A protective position I am ashamed of even to this day, of it being the_only_ thing I could think of then.

But I think back now; what could I have done? He was a vampire that desired both my blood and me! He was stronger. He could think quicker. What chance did I have? Truly, my vulnerable position revealed such thoughts as I huddled there, wishing for salvation against this horror.

Then, Lestat came back. He was close, and was getting much closer.

With a cold and gentle hand, he moved my arms away from me despite my struggle with him. Such pressures practically forced me to look up at him, though I'm sure you could realize my hatred in doing so! In gazing upon him, I could see nothing but the brilliant gray eyes. And in the darkness, they were the only objects I could see without strain. But they weren't natural; eyes cannot illuminate like that! Yet they did. The color, the depth…

My distraction in such a dire situation surely amused him. His mouth no doubt held his twisted smile.

His other hand clamped onto my shoulder, then used a mere fraction of his strength to slam me against the wall behind my bed. My head slapped the wall and I had to bite my tongue to keep my yell from escaping and alerting anyone of my danger. Such force was the shove that my repression cut a wound. I gasped and clasped my hands to my mouth with wide eyes.

Blood. And I'm sure he smelled it.

He made no moves. As my eyes adjusted, I could see his smirk and how his eyes lit when the wound was made. His hand moved to my mouth. In panicked thoughts, I cursed and begged him not to do it. The laughter in his orbs became audible. Chills racked my body.

Without difficulty, he succeeded in wrenching my hands away. In doing so, he twisted them so much that pain shot up both my arms and I went to great extents to suppress a coming cry. In fact, my mouth opened to the point where I could have yelled.

And, of course, where Lestat could enter to find his prize.

The room seemed to slow down at that moment. There was no chance I could guard in time. There was no hope. He had me.

His eyes, the orbs I see in my mind to this day, came whipping forward towards me. I could only flinch. And yet, moments passed, and even in the closeness that we shared, his mouth did not touch my lips, did not seek the blood within them. Why did he not take what he wanted! Though, I did not complain at the moment; truly, it was a blessing!

His arm moved, and his fingers touched my lips. Had I been able to fight, I surely would have; however, the vice-grip upon my shoulder not only kept me in place, but the strength in which he held me was nearly able to dislocate the joint. I could not dare to move, and still he did nothing.

I could not know how long we stayed within this intimate distance, so close we could kiss. The closeness seemed to become commonplace between us. How I _hated _it!

How I hated _him_.

I doubt he cared. If he did, Lestat was skilled in concealing it. The stillness between us was not broken until I felt him loosen the grip on my shoulder, and his form completely disappearing from my sight. His speed was far too great for me to see anything of his flight, but I could feel the aftermath clearly. He was leaving; indeed, he was gone.

But I stayed against the wall, trembling, as if Lestat was still there. The relief from his departure was smothered by feelings of helplessness and frustration. What safety was there, if I was trapped for his return, to be his victim once again! I held my hands to the side of my head and almost broke down in anguish. My pride wouldn't allow me, however. And my apprehension did not allow me rest. For the rest of the dark hours, I was left awake, contemplating anything, anything in the least, which could get him from me. There was no reasoning with him, of course, for what could I say? "There are better tasting mortals in the world than I"? Had it not been for my too-clear memories of his assault, I could have laughed.

Those hushed hours remain within me still. My thoughts were unending, no matter how exhaustion threatened to take me in its clutch. There was no way in the Nine Hells that I would be able to slumber peacefully that night.

Though, as I could see the orange sky through the quiet window, and as I knew no vampire could stir when the sun shone forth, a certain calm fell over me. My body seemed to relax at the hour of light, despite my mind's assurance of the horrors to come when the moon rose. At last, sleep took me, and no being, immortal or human alike, could awaken me in that state.

But, as all grand occurrences, my slumber did come to an end. It was strange, as I stared up at the glass panes dividing me from nature, for the sky was orange still, just as I had left it. After grogginess had been shaken from me and I had stood up, my eyes did wander to a clock. You could guess my surprise when I realized I had slept the whole morning and afternoon gone. A kind of panic flew over me at that time, and my mind raced as to what I could do to halt the inevitable and timeless tradition of Lestat's arrival.

Scrambling to my sword rack did little good to calm me, but an unshakable spirit willed me forward in attempts to prepare. My beloved sword in my grasp would not, I commanded myself, be taken by a despicable Undead. But, where was there to sit and wait? I found myself wandering uselessly about my room, trying to find the most favorable spot. At that point, my sense pushed into my will, arguing that there was no way, no escape from him. What else was I supposed to do, though? Give up my blood to him? Become another of Lestat's weak-minded lovers that he would either kill or make immortal and be damned to walk the earth forever? A shudder nearly threw me from my equilibrium. _Never_. Never could I submit to his will.

It was all I had left.

And these thoughts gripped me with such intensity that I had began to pace around my room. I did not even realize this until an idle eye saw the window, and knew the truth. No orange sun was remaining, for it had submitted to the darkness. A bitter realization flew over me as I realized that I might transcend into the sun, only to fall to the sensuous night against my desires.

I had decided to plop down into a corner facing the window, so Lestat would have no chance to gain my back. My front would be all he could attempt to take, and I was determined to give him a fight for it.

But as I sat there, holding my blade's handle in an unmovable vice, my body did not cease its tense posture, no matter how long I was waiting. Truly, it felt like hours. And what could be worse, my extended sleep allowed me no weariness, no rest. Though which was the blessing: waiting anxiously for a man to come, being to weak to resist his bite, or sleeping through it all so he can rape you as you are too groggy and dazed to oppose? Which was the better hell?

One could see that the sun had loved me that day, for my rest in the corner of my quarters was halted by the flaring sphere. A feeling of intense relief, mixed with great confusion, bombarded my form so greatly that I could almost not stand. Why did he not come? What made this night different from his last two ventures? What stopped him?

Indeed, what stopped him? I wished to prevent him forevermore.

Although I could never know, the same fatigued state came over me as I saw the sun rising, allowing me to care not for my current circumstances. With a careful hand, I placed my weapon back to its place, and fell upon the bed in welcomed somnolent peace. For now, I could rest. The night to come would be readied for, and I knew I could fight with even greater abandon than ever previous. However, I could not know, but the darkness to come would hide more damnable acts than I could ever fathom.

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My apologies for the shortness, but the old writing had to be changed at the last minute to make the story better. So, if you stick with me, an even greater reading experience should come to you : ) Reviews and comments are welcome, and thanks for reading.

I don't own Lestat (thank Jesus) but Anne Rice does. Enjoy the disclaimer.


	4. Chapter 4

Oh my Jesus, I actually updated! Sorry for the obnoxious wait; I was really busy :( But now, I'm able to bring the next chapter to you! Enjoy!

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Lestat had more control over me than I had thought. He was beginning to change my sleeping patterns. When I awoke, it was nearly six, and the sun was descending into the sky. My stomach cried for nourishment even louder than my mind screamed for me to run as far from my vampire stalker as I was able. It occurred to me I hadn't been eating properly either; how much did this man plan on taking from me?

Unfortunately, as I tried to swallow my food, a terrible sickness fell over me from the pit of my gut. It felt as if I'd vomit if I tried to eat, but I forced some down and went outside, claiming to my parents that I'd just sit outside for awhile to watch the sun set. Maybe I wasn't lying; maybe I wanted to see what could be my last glimpse at light, before Lestat dragged me down into death.

I couldn't bring my weapon with me. I could never find an excuse for bringing it with me. Again, my stomach turned and felt as if acid was burning a whole through it. Alone in the night, unguarded even. What was I thinking? When he didn't find me in my usual place, how long did I truly think it would take him to see me out here? He could probably hear my thoughts so well that he didn't have to bother; Lestat could just walk through the back gate and-

Well. What do you know; he did.

In retrospect, my sword probably wouldn't have done much against him in the first place, but I had to hold onto some hope, right? He waltzed in as if he was the landlord, and closed the gate without touching it. What a strange power. A shiver went up my spine.

His eyes held his laughter just as his face held his smirk. He saw me sitting on that bench, just waiting for him, doing nothing, moving not at all. Lestat probably found it comical. But besides his expression, I noticed he had something in his hand, something precious and dear to me: my weapon.

"Would you like this, ma chère? Will it make you feel more at ease?"

My eyes widened involuntarily. The fact that he knew that I was outside, without my sword, and was enough of a gentleman to bring it to me, frightened me to my core. He was in complete control of my life, which was spiraling out of mine.

The vampire stopped in front of me, unsheathing the blade and glancing at it with a fleeting respect. It was like he was inviting me to get up and take it from me, just as he would take my hand and kiss it politely! Pompous bastard!

"And you believe _me_ to be rude and ruthless." He heard my thoughts. It was obvious.

It occurred to me that I didn't know what to do. I was smart enough to know that fighting back wasn't going to do much of anything; however, the thought of him taking my blood so easily filled me with anger and frustration. What could I do? What could I do against an immortal that has lived a hundred more lifetimes than I have?

"Come to me, chérie; I mean you no harm." Lestat offered, opening his arms up, waiting for me to embrace him.

"No harm?" I echoed. I repeated it again with a much darker tone, "No _harm!_"

I filled with anger at his words; my body felt aflame with fury. I could stand it no longer; regardless of my better senses, I would strike him with all my might. Forward I went with a punch to his face, fully intending to fell him in one blow. In an unstoppable motion, he jammed the sheath of my sword into my gut.

The wind was knocked out of my lungs and I collapsed into his open arm. I couldn't stand with my own power, the strike was so full. With coughs and a pained groan, I clutched my stomach in agony. Just as frustration had filled me a moment ago, pain snaked through my form mercilessly.

Lestat waited for me to begin breathing somewhat normally before speaking. His words showed his control, showed his calm, "I would only kill you with love, why do you force my hand in violence?"

"You…" I stammered, still not breathing well. Then, I noticed he still had my sword out of its scabbard, in the hand that had not been holding me up. With great effort, I lunged at it, shoving it toward his side before he could understand what I was doing. It bit into his side just as I knew it would, the knowledge of my weapon greater than his could be. He issued a grunt as a red blotch appeared on his navy jacket. Another second had me flat on the ground, looking up at him, the vampire clutching his side.

"Dear girl, what have you done?" He asked, as if he actually lamented the betrayal. His eyes were the only part of him that showed his true emotion: anger.

He disappeared, but reappeared again right on top of me. His breath reeked of death, his body felt cold even from the distance he held himself away from me. I didn't even have time to scream or cry; Lestat smothered my mouth with his hand, also preventing me from looking away or moving my head at all. The vampire's legs created a barrier to which my own form couldn't break. I was trapped.

"The wound will close, I hope you realize, too soon to kill me. Why you did that is beyond my sense." Lestat whispered. He was biting back his rage, just as I struggled to bite back my growing panic. Where had he thrown my sword? It wasn't in his hands now, thank god.

His hand slid inside his coat and he pulled it out, the man's hand dripping with the fresh blood. I didn't know what he would do with it, and I tried to move away, but he kept me there firmly, his strength alone showing his threat.

Two fingers went to the base of my neck, a burning sensation traveling upward to my face. His blood seared through my bite marks, ones I had, until now, forgotten about in attempts to forget his previous attacks. He let go of my face to hold out my wrist against the ground, and put his bloodied fingers there as well. Now the strange feeling tingled through my entire arm, a mix between acid and pleasure. He was erasing all the signs he had come near me!

"Let go; don't touch me!" I protested, struggling to get up now that he had let go of my face.

"It had to be done eventually, ma chère; why would I give you evidence to your accusations against me?" My free hand smashed against his jawbone so that the last few words were slurred in the strike. I was able to lift myself from the ground and jump back a step without really getting up, before he leaped over me like a frog and knocked me down again. His fingers stabbed into my sides, gripping me tightly so I wouldn't try the same move twice. "We aren't done yet, chérie, you know that. I have yet to get what I want. Now, it's either on the ground or in your very bed, where your screams can only be muffled by your beautiful will. Which do you prefer?"

Without answering, I swung my fists at his face. They couldn't reach him at that angle, but still he jumped forward and snatched them, holding them from my body so I looked like a crucified Christ. His face hovered over mine, showing his absolute dominance.

I smothered my fear. "Do you enjoy frightening me?" I growled through clenched teeth. "Does it entertain you?"

"Yes." If it was possible, he came closer, breathing right down my neck. "I _love_ it."

The distance did not deter my anger. Using his own grip on my wrists as a balance, I brought my legs out from under him and smashed them into his chest and neck. He was knocked off me, and I scrambled to my feet, searching frantically for my blade. I knew I had half a second before his wrath would be all over me, but in that moment I spotted my weapon mere feet from where I had stood up. I dived for it, snatching it from the ground and whipping about, just in time to slash it across the same area I had hit before. His lunge was deterred, off to the side, enough for me to make a mad dash away. I heard him hit the ground, but somehow in that same instance I felt myself crash against the wood paneling of the fence by my neck. His fingers were deep into the flesh of my throat, but I couldn't see him, the side of my face crushed against the fence.

"Son of a bi-" I cursed, or tried to, Lestat interrupting me.

"You underestimate me." He hissed into my ear. His hand was crushing my neck, making my breath come in labored gasps. "Did you forget who you were dealing with when you struck me?"

I didn't respond. I couldn't. Imagine trying to speak when you've been thrown around like a rag doll. When he saw that I wouldn't talk, he lifted me from the fence and slammed me back into it. I yelled in pain, but it was quieted by my lack of air to do so.

"I want an answer." Lestat ordered, ignoring whatever misery I might have been in.

My mind raced to come up with something that would save me from the vampire's wrath. I could feel the wood of the fence scraping against the side of my face.

"Do you still mean me no harm, Lestat?" I asked.

His grip lightened. Did I mean that much to him, truly? My chest could expand for breath, and I took this opportunity fully. The man's hand left the back of my neck.

"Did I cause you pain?" He questioned, feigning shock in his voice. Lestat put a gentle hand on my arm. "My sincerest apologies. If it would mean anything to you, shall I help you to bed?"

I panicked. I lunged out to the right in attempts to get away from him, but his expert grip caught me in an embrace that brought me from the floor. I kicked out with my legs, dug into his jacket sleeves with my nails, anything I could to get him from me. But by now, do you really think it worked? He brought me up into a bridal hold without much effort, his eyes threatening for him: _make a sound, and they all die_.

Lestat walked through the house just as I would, just as a regular guest would, had he been invited inside. He knew, as I knew, that my family was slumbering peacefully, and even if they weren't, Lestat would take care of them, probably without even dropping me in the process. I shuddered to think of such efficiency. I couldn't bear to look at him as he traveled into my home; my eyes were shut and pushing back tears of horror. I couldn't do anything. I couldn't do _anything_.

He shut the door behind him, politely and quietly. He placed me on my bed, as he would a sleeping child. I put my hands to my head and scrambled away from him, the only thing I could do to keep from screaming. One hand was all he needed to keep me there. Another snatched my shoulder, opening me up to his body.

"Why do you do this! Why do you torture _me!_" I half-yelled at him. My head was as far back as it would go against the blankets, an instinctual attempt to get away. He kept my arms from moving.

"You've asked this before." Lestat replied matter-of-factly. His face buried itself in my neck, not biting, but merely refreshing itself in my scent. His tongue went up my throat, my form shuddering beneath his touch. "I enjoy this."

"A child should not be molested by the Undead!" I shot back at him. My eyes were lit with my stress.

He didn't need to pause before he lifted himself, looking me directly in the eye, and said, "And a child should not die with knowing love, or die without knowing happiness. But who finds justice for the infant slaughtered by a roadside car-bomb in Iraq, or the starving baby in Sudan? Do you find your life a worse hell than theirs? Would you deny my affection to trade with their suffering? Why do you reject me, mon amour, why do you maim and dismember what has held you so dear?"

I shifted under his weight, not relinquishing. "Because I hate you, and all that you bring to me!"

He smirked. "So you do, my love." He plunged his teeth into my neck.

Lestat had taken so much of my blood it knocked me unconscious. That sleep was long, and I wished I would never wake from it. I knew the draining would not kill me, no. It would never be enough to kill me. And it wouldn't be enough for anyone to take me to a hospital or notice something was wrong. I would be stuck in my own private hell, to be raped repeatedly for what I had no desire to possess. A powerful spirit, a strong will; that is what he wanted, that is what he coveted. I would never escape his lust, and as I finally woke to the afternoon sun, I realized there was little I could do except submit to his wishes.

But that little amount, I would do, I thought, and it would be enough to kill him.

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Review if you thought it was decent, thanks for reading! : )


	5. Chapter 5

The long anticipated next chapter! I'm sorry to all that waited anxiously for this next installment; I simply did not have the muses to finish until this point. However! It's done now, so enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Lestat.

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I walked outside my community. With me, I carried two quarts of gasoline. Tonight, I would kill him.

I had alerted my parents that I was to stay at a friend's house for the night. No one would question my absence once the night fell. No one would know of my plan to slay an immortal.

I was certain; my determination was thick within the feeling of emotion coursing through my entire form. Yes, tonight I would kill him.

There was a forested area near the outskirts of the community that I would use for my endeavor. An abandoned church marked the entrance to the place that would be the end of my imprisonment. No more would an Undead torture me. No more would this creature take what was mine. It was done; it would be done.

Strapped to my belt was my metal sword. It was a miracle he had not thought to destroy it. Now I would use it to its fullest extent against him.

It didn't take long for me to prepare the area for his arrival. I was done before the sun started to set. I sat at the base of one of the old, sturdy trees and waited. There was no need to watch for passersby, because no one came past this place. Two dead drug users had been found here and no person wanted to run the risk of meeting more. I decided it was ideal for my task.

I closed my eyes and regulated my breathing. All the nerve I could possibly conjure would be needed tonight. It had to be done. He had taken my blood, stolen my confidence, and destroyed security in my own home! Lestat de Lioncourt was going to die at last. And I knew how to do it.

When the sun began to sink into the red clouds, I could feel it. I could hear the last birds sing and take roost. The atmosphere changed. Something ominous filled the air, and I knew all too well what the darkness would present. I kept my mind clear; I could feel _him_ approaching.

The sensation ebbed and flowed like a river, but I didn't lose my focus. He would soon discover I wasn't where I had always been. But this would not delay him for even a fraction of what I could hope. This vampire was too intelligent: he would come. He would hear the faint sound of my meditative mind and he would come, with speed unimaginable.

And before I could inhale even once more, I heard his footsteps in the dead grass.

Those footsteps were so deliberate that even now it unnerves me. They came through the twigs and leaves with no rush at all. I couldn't tell from my closed eyes what kind of character those sounds held, and what manner Lestat would address my strange behavior. When I viewed him at last, I could still tell nothing. Only when he spoke, did I understand.

"I see, ma chère," Lestat began, "that you've prepared for me. Why? Haven't I made it abundantly clear that you cannot escape?"

He continued to walk toward me. "Whether it be the forest ground," he took a step, "a coffin," another, "or your own bed," he stopped. When he did, he finished, "I will have what I desire, and what is mine."

I lifted myself from the leaves with all care and patience. I breathed. "No, you won't."

I struck the match I had been concealing in my palm and tossed it aside. "It's not yours to take _anymore_."

Instantly, the match lit fire to the gasoline I had spread into the surrounding area. It produced a ring of hellish fire of which we could not escape. It wouldn't be long now.

"Well, well. This is a surprise." He tried to keep his composure, but I could tell he began to feel uncomfortable. "And this won't do any good. Your resistance is foolish. All you're going to do is make a short-tempered immortal very, _very_ angry."

He disappeared, but I was ready. As I drew my blade, he reappeared in front of me and threw a strike to my center. I persevered and threw the empty scabbard to the ground as I straightened out.

_One hit, just one good hit!_ I chanted over and again as I took a wild swing at the air where I predicted he would be. It missed. A great strike to my back thrust me forward and sent pain ripping up my back. I nearly fell, but again I gritted my teeth and swung to the side. By that time, the immortal was gone. Cursing to myself I tried once more, only to strike air.

I paused, and he reappeared to my left. I moved not a muscle, knowing if I did, it would mean another failed attempt. His eyes were not just unnerving, but literally glowing the in the entrapping flames. He was watching my every movement.

Then, he came to my front and snatched both my shoulders. He intended to keep me there.

"Your efforts are _useless_. Give up." The vampire's words alluded to an underlying threat. He tightened his hold.

"No."

I swung my blade, but he was too quick. Before I could turn, Lestat swept my legs out from under me and I tumbled to the ground.

For a moment, I panicked. I had not expected him to use such a simple, yet skilled move. I rolled to the side but was stopped by the heel of Lestat's boot digging into my right shoulder.

"You can't win. And now you've condemned yourself to death." Lestat hovered over me. "I won't stay here to burn, ma chère, and I will not rescue you." He lifted himself and grinded his heel into the joint of my shoulder. I could hardly suppress a yell. "What made you believe I was so generous?"

Fiery branches began to fall from the tallest trees that hadn't been reduced to ash. Time was short.

"You're a bastard, Lestat. You have always been one. I never believed you were capable of compassion. If I kill you, at least I will have peace as I die!"

I threw a kick to his side, predicting he would avoid it by disappearing once again. I was correct. Before I could roll to my feet, however, Lestat struck me in my side. Pain seared the area, but I continued to recover. I closed my eyes and breathed inward.

_One good shot, one good shot!_

_I saw Lestat now!_ I swung, missed and thrust _straight forward!_

One hit.

Just one.

And it ran Lestat straight through.

I heard him grunt and was for a second in disbelief I succeeded. He must have thought similarly, for he froze against my blade. Seeing my opening, my only opening, I pushed him forward, the immortal having no choice but to crash to the ground.

I took my opportunity! Furious, repetitious punches I threw to his face, pushing all my spirit into each attack. I heard the crunch of bone. I would kill him! I screamed in my head again. I would kill the monster who had taken my innocence, my solace, _everything!! _

I pulled my sword from his stomach and prepared the blade for the guillotine strike.

"Burning…and dismemberment," I gasped for breath, "that's the way to kill you. And I've got both."

Branches continued to topple to the ground but I paid no attention. I lifted my sword. _I'll destroy him,_ I thought, I would destroy him, that monster,I would destroy this immortal, this-!

_Everything you've ever admired, you will destroy. _

I froze.

_Everything with which you took comfort, you will raze._

A voice pounded through my form. This realization shot into me like a biting cold wind. It hit me hard. I started to shiver. My face started to become moist. What was I doing? I couldn't move. I couldn't do it. I couldn't _do_ it. My sword lowered.

Lestat tossed me off him like nothing. My weapon clattered away from my hand. I didn't even feel it.

He didn't attack. He looked over me, as if contemplating what hell would be most suitable. I couldn't move.

He lunged toward me. I blacked out.

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Please tell me if you enjoyed it. =]


	6. Chapter 6

Almost done, guys! Thanks for reading this far! =)

Lestat's not mine.

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I awoke as quickly as I had been knocked unconscious. It was not dark, but the light was artificial. I was in my room, and Lestat was there.

My first reaction was to gain distance between him and I; I shot back against the bed's headboard. Fiery pain assaulted my limbs where the heat had singed my flesh. I shriveled inward in quiet agony.

Lestat said nothing, no taunt nor torturous threat. When I looked to see why, I discovered that his eyes were closed, and his breathing rhythmic!

He was sleeping? It couldn't be. Lestat wouldn't leave himself undefended.

I frankly wasn't sure what I should do. If I moved, there was a possibility he could attack. If I stayed where I was, I could be an open target. It seemed like a huge cycle of no escape. But, I wanted to take advantage of his temporary weakness nonetheless. However, as I moved, an instinct told me to stop.

_He isn't an enemy, _that inner voice told me, _not anymore. _

My mind screamed, _no! He's going to kill you, especially after what you've done!_

I was confused. My instinct typically led me into confrontation with Lestat, the danger around me being too real for any other voice to be heard. What should I _do_? I couldn't figure which decision was best. Burning sensations continued to limit my movement. I realized I would never make it to him before he issued a devastating counter.

It didn't matter, though. As I looked to his singed hands, he made an effort to shield them from my gaze.

I flinched back at the movement.

"Did you honestly believe you could do it?" Lestat asked simply. His voice was low and lacked accusation. He seemed almost…tamed.

"Yes." I replied.

I was against the wall by my shoulder so quickly the wind was knocked from my lungs in surprise. Lestat had a fist poised above my face.

Even in my dire situation, I could not deny the immortal's tattered condition. I could see burn marks on the knuckles about to crush my face. His hair had singed, split edges, as did his coat. And he had no remaining composure to make a cool remark. He had nothing left.

"Do you know how truly stupid you are?" His fist tightened. I was losing feeling in my shoulder. "I told you, chérie, all you did was make me very _angry_."

I could tell he was struggling to contain his emotions. Was he resisting the urge to kill me, right here, without a second thought?

"I am." He replied to my silent musings with clenched teeth. "So I can save you for a more apt death." The vampire's eyes absolutely glowed.

He lowered his fist and placed his other hand upon my shoulder. His grip on my loosened, as his body also relaxed. It seemed as if his instinct to kill had been dissuaded.

"You are a _fool._" Lestat glared straight into my eyes. "Trying to kill a vampire! Why did you think it was possible?!"

"Because it is."

"But not for you!" He yelled at me. His exclamation made him shake my body into the wall. My head slapped concrete. "You could have accepted my visits! You could have submitted!"

"Accepting has no spirit." I told him, refusing to be deterred by his actions, "Submission has no will. Having spirit does not only mean the ability to keep fighting. It means trying the impossible, doing the undoable, because I can make it _possible_."

"But you _failed._" Lestat growled.

"Because I do not only will, Lestat, I have a heart."

Lestat snarled and thrust me against the wall once more. He shuffled away from me, back turned.

"You fool."

"I once emulated you, Lestat." I continued, disregarding his comment. I stood firmly now. "I did. I can't destroy you because I'll be destroying--"

"—Everything you ever admired." He looked make to me with anger. "You idiot." The vampire turned to face me. "_I _put those thoughts into your head. _I _am the one who threw you into a paralytic state! Do not preach mercy to me, chérie, for you were ready to kill me and be done with it! _I _am the one who spared _you_ from the fire you wrought upon us both. I did not have to; it would have bothered me not for one moment to leave you there, unable to move, waiting for yourself to be burned alive! And you tell me you came to that conclusion alone!!"

He was nearly on top of me by the time he finished. His form hung over me with an intensity that would have buckled any person's reserve. But I am no regular person.

"It was a repressed truth; you helped me realize it. You were fishing and you got it right. For that, I thank you. And I thank you for saving me from destruction." I worded my next statement carefully. "But you had to save me; you need me. You couldn't leave me to die. Not only for my valuable blood do you want me around, but something more. I awaken something in you. Something deep, I think--"

He cut me off by grabbing my head with both his hands. "You're bullshitting me."

"Something human."

My mind as bombarded by his inaudible roar. The immortal wrapped his hands around my neck. He was very quickly killing my air.

I persevered through his grasp. "You fought against everything, for all of your life. The wolves, the Dark Gift, _Hell itself!_ You wanted to find something, someone, who had even a fraction of the spirit you possessed! You wanted to torment someone for the same reason you were so tortured! You wanted someone who could--"

I couldn't breathe. My eyesight was hazy and I was losing strength in my legs. I was about to go under when Lestat released me. I skidded down the wall.

"—Understand me." Lestat looked down with a diffused expression. "I needed something to make me feel human again. Yes. That's correct, ma chère."

I could hardly hear his confession. The tight grip Lestat kept on me in addition to my speaking through it had depleted the air I had to near the point of no return.

"You could…have told me…" I strained. I tried desperately to lift myself back up.

Lestat took my front and hauled me to my feet. Such a jolt caused me to gasp. He smiled.

"I didn't think you would understand. I underestimated you, chérie." He apologized with a proper bow.

Still, I struggled to breathe. I took in heavy gulps of air. "You can…apologize for my bruises…too."

Lestat smirked. "Well, that was for fun."

I glared at him, but the only reaction he showed was amusement.

Finally, I could stand without aid from the wall. I looked up to Lestat. There was no trace of the animalistic haze in his eyes, nor the horrible tension in his body he possessed only minutes before.

"I do understand, Lestat. I get it."

"I already know, ma chère," he assured me. For once, the vampire stepped back, allowing me room.

I sat on the chair he had been in when I awoke. I breathed.

"You are a magnificent person, Lestat. Truly unique."

"Not a person. A beast, if anything," he admitted.

He sat upon my bed and we stared at each other for a moment.

"I wanted to kill you. I wanted to destroy everything I feared in one fell swoop," I sighed.

"So you thought."

I looked down and tried to absorb such a great amount of new information. It was quite a bit to swallow. I just couldn't believe I was speaking to the man I tried to slaughter within the same night. And in a civilized manner!

"I will…be there for you, Lestat." I hesitated, but I meant my words. Somehow, I was able to put his abuse of me behind me. I wanted closure, more than anything, and I wanted an end to this madness.

He smiled at me. His eyes told me he understood. And they also said he promised the same.

I leaned back in my seat. "You didn't have to take my blood to have me accept you. Actually, it made it worse. Talking works too, you know."

He looked perplexed. "What?"

"You didn't need to win my acceptance with the excuse of my blood."

"Whatever do you mean?" Lestat stood and walked to me. He held my shoulders, forcing his weight onto me. He was trying to make me uncomfortable, and it was succeeding. "There is no excuse. Winning your acceptance was not my intention all in that action." He smirked. "I always wanted your blood, for its _taste._"

"And you still do?" My stomach sunk as I grabbed his forearms in protest.

"I still do."

"_Shit!_" I cursed as he jumped at me. I was out.


	7. Chapter 7

I'm not happy with this "settlement." Lestat is an egocentric, lying bastard. Every time he comes for blood, I give him a new bruise for his ever-healing skin to remind him why I am so rare. I can't say I succeed in deterring his lust, but I succeed at times in stopping him for the night.

He taunts me every chance he gets, and always tries to get that extra inch too close.

Still, there are nights where I'll sit at the computer, just writing, and he'll lay on my bed, silent. I can't say we enjoy each other's company, but it's nice to have someone to fill the space. I just don't like it when he has the spontaneous desire to style my hair; though, at least it stops him from using me like a canteen.

At times, I hate him; at times, I'm glad he's there to talk to. He is a bastard, true, but I've met worse cretins in the school system.

But one day, I'll get him to stop. One day, I'll get back what's mine, somehow. _I _will be in control; _I _will be the one to invite him or no, I will ihrfk,;mksm

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Hello, my lovelies, did you miss me? _I _will be telling the stories from now on…

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It's all done! Thank you, thank you for reading! If you have time, I would appreciate an honest review of this piece. Thank you again!


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